ShadowLight Week 2019
by Nymus
Summary: Prompts for Shadowlight Week 2019
1. Scents

**Scents**

* * *

For as long as Sting could remember, the feeling of home had been strongly linked to a certain comforting smell. He wasn't sure if it was related to his Dragon Slayer nature since he was a bit embarrassed to ask any of the others. He was also a bit protective of his vision and didn't want to face the possibility it was only made up in his mind. The scent of home was something he liked to think Weisslogia had inherited to him.

At first, of course, it had been dominated by the strong smell of a pure Dragon, with the specific mark that belonged to his Father. That had been his first glimpse of what a home was, the first one he could actively remember. It had also disappeared with Weisslogia, leaving him alone with only his own smell, a weak imitation that wasn't good enough to fill the void that the dragon shape used to take.

That was the main reason he had left the woods where he grew up, the unshakable feeling that place wasn't his anymore. The feeling that it had been his home only because his Father was there, and therefore it was only an empty place without him.

Wandering through Fiore, he had never found anything that gave him a feeling similar enough to make him stay, not until he'd found (or been found by) Sabertooth. And even then, the guild wasn't exactly something he would define as a home. More like a place to stay in between mission, a place to rest. It didn't make him feel comfortable like sleeping under Weisslogia's wings did, and Sting had figured at first it was something related to growing up and leaving childhood behind. Later experiences would make him realize his mistake.

He was older now but, with Jiemma gone and Sabertooth on a new path, he had found again that comforting feeling he'd thought lost. It was at the guild hall, where his guildmates ate, fought and laughed. It was, weirdly, at his office where paperwork and notifications pilled. And, overall, it was on the smell that welcomed him every time he got home, to the house he shared with Rogue.

It was a blend of both their scents, as well as the fainter ones of their Exceeds. A smell that lingered on his skin even after he left, keeping him company even when he wasn't near his partner. It was something that made him fall asleep as happy and content as his Father's warmth once had.

And maybe, he thought, curling up closer to Rogue's chest, maybe it wasn't that different after all.


	2. Symbols

**Symbols**

* * *

Sabertooth's mark was on Rogue's left shoulder. Right where he could ignore it most of the time unless he had to get dressed or take off his clothes. Right where it was hidden under layers and layers of clothes, invisible for almost everyone but himself.

A lot of other mages were permanently showing their own. Marks where everywhere, on hands, legs, naked chests or arms. A giant signal permanently screaming 'look at me, this person wants you to see them.'

Rogue had struggled for a long time to see the charm, unable to understand why so many other mages made a point of showcasing their marks any time they could. It wasn't like they were really necessary for anything. People knew without them saying anything that they belonged to a certain guild, their names preceding them. As he saw it, the guild mark was nothing more than a stain on his skin, something to bound him and control him even when he wasn't at the guild hall.

A hand fell over his shoulder, sliding down to trace the drawing with slow moves.

"You don't like it." Came a whisper near his ear, breaking the pensive silence. 

"I used to think that," Rogue said, leaning until his back found a broad chest. "I'm not sure anymore, maybe I can see the appeal now."

It was true. While he wasn't totally convinced yet, he thought maybe now he could understand what other mages felt about their guilds showing on their skin. It wasn't a restraint but a display of the pride and love they felt for their family of choice. A reminder of what they were and what they wanted to be.

So maybe that's why Rogue hadn't been able to connect until recently. And it was possible he would never be able to cherish and worship the sign as many others did, but he'd found himself looking at it more with fondness than with disdain recently. His symbol matched everyone else's, it was a connection he shared with all his friends and there was something comforting in that thought. 

"It looks good on you." Sting got closer and kissed his shoulder, a light peck that only lasted a few seconds, but made Rogue sigh anyway.

It wasn't that bad to have Sabertooth on his skin.


	3. Cuddles

**Cuddle**

* * *

There was almost no light when Sting woke up. The sun hadn't even risen yet, there was only a grey light entering through the window. He groaned before rubbing his eyes to try to wake up a bit more. He rolled to one side slowly, trying to be sneaky before sitting up on his side of the bed and stretching his back, while yawning.

It was then that two slim but muscular arms slid by his sides, wrapping him in a loose hug. A chin dropped on his shoulder, followed by a soft humming sound.

"What are you doing up so early?" Sting asked, his voice low.

"Could ask… hmm… the same," Came the answer, a bit slurred by sleep.

"You know what I am doing. I need to go to work."

"Don't go." It made Sting smile and sigh.

"I can't not go."

"You can. There's nothing to do."

"There's always something to do."

"Not today." Rogue gave him a short kiss on the neck before hugging him closer. "Stay."

And as much as Sting might feel guilty later, it was true that there was nothing urgent waiting for him at the guild, and he was nothing but weak for his boyfriend, so the answer came easily to his lips.

"Okay." He let himself be dragged back into bed. "Just a few hours."

"Good," Rogue mumbled before curling at his side, his arm and head over Sting's chest.

"What's up? You are cuddly today."

"Nothing. I love you. Sleep."

"Oh. Okay" It would be a lie to say Sting wasn't a bit overwhelmed by Rogue's tenderness this morning. It didn't matter how many years had passed, sometimes it still took him by surprise. So, he gave Rogue a light kiss on the top of his head before settling back into bed and closing his eyes. A few more hours of sleep sounded really fine.


	4. Command

**Command**

* * *

Things had been busy since the Grand Magic Games and therefore, Sting didn't have a lot of time to think about the turns their lives had taken. However, some unsaid things kept piling up at the back of his mind, so it wasn't strange that, when he finally found some time to calm down and relax, all of them exploded on his face.

The resulting breakdown shouldn't have been really unexpected and yet, it took Rogue by surprise when he found him sitting on the bed of their bedroom, his hands grabbing at his hair.

It wasn't the first time something like this happened but Rogue couldn't exactly pinpoint what would have triggered the situation this time, although knowing Sting, maybe he had a vague notion about what was the problem.

He knelt in front his mate, his hands finding Sting's to slowly disentangle them from his hair. He kept them within his own, on Sting's knees, and waited for the other one to talk to him. It took a bit, it always did.

"I don't think I can do it." The blond finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Rogue thought he knew where this was going, but he still wanted Sting to say it, to avoid any wrong assumption.

"I'm not… I shouldn't be the Master. There are better people than me for this."

"You are the one we want." Sting's hands tensed in Rogue's grip, so he tried to soothe them by running his thumb over them.

"But I'm not good Rogue, I could become him anyday, I have done it before."

"Don't be stupid, Sting. You would never be like him."

"But I-" Rogue shut him up with a kiss, raising just enough to find his lips and moving back when he was sure the blond wouldn't keep talking.

"You nothing. Do you think I would love you like I do if you were anything like he was?"

Sting found Rogue's eyes, his lips still trembling a bit.

"I don't want to disappoint you. Or anyone"

"You won't," Rogue reassured, both with his voice and body.

"But what if I do?"

"You won't. And you are not alone here. I'll be with you, whenever you need me."

Sting rubbed at his eye, trying to calm down and Rogue moved to sit at his side, on the bed.

"You don't need to command us," Rogue said, as his arm found his way around the blond's waist. "You just have to lead us, and there's no one better to do it than you."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Always."

"Even if I fuck up?"

"I mean, I already did that, right?"

Sting huffed and punched Rogue's shoulder lightly, before leaning into his body.

"Jerk."

"You're one to talk."

Sting hummed, snuggling a little closer to Rogue. They stayed like that for a long moment, Rogue's hand going up and down his mate's arm until he was sure Sting had calmed down enough to go back his normal self.

"Sting?" he said then, his voice low to not disturb the moment.

"Hm?" was the blond's answer, an undefined and sleepy sound.

"It will be fine. I promise."

"Okay."


	5. Hero

**Hero**

* * *

Sometimes, Sting couldn't believe he had been so lucky. That, after everything he had said and done, everything his life had been filled with, he had managed to get all he could have wished for.

After spending many years rejecting and making fun of friends and bonds, he had managed to get a loving guild and friends that were always happy to support him.

After thinking he had killed his Father, he had found him again and said a proper goodbye, not tampered by guilt or pain.

He now felt more free than he'd ever felt before, even when he was, in some ways, more trapped by responsibilities and meetings. His body may be permanently tired, but his spirit felt light and that was all the seemed to need.

Even more important, because of an extremely fortunate stroke of luck, he had managed to get himself the best boyfriend he could have ever dreamt of. And he didn't have to kill or fight anyone to get him.

There were a lot of things Sting had always admired about his mate, from the first time they had seen each other.

Rogue was usually so calm and collected, even when problems arose one behind the other. He also might seem grumpy at first sight, but he was actually a big softie. He was fiercely protective of the ones he loved, sometimes to a ridiculous degree.

He had always been someone Sting could trust to have his back. Even at their worst times, even when the blond doubted himself, he had always known Rogue would be with him, step by step. And when Sting felt like he would break, that he couldn't keep going and the world was too much, he'd just needed to feel Rogue near. Feeling his warmth, hearing his voice or smelling his scent, it made Sting stronger. It made him feel like everything would be alright, one way or another.

All those reasons, and more made him love Rogue so much that sometimes it felt like his feelings would overflow his body. And when kids or townies or anyone talked about how good Sting was, how strong he was, and what a hero he should be to Sabertooth, he smiled and shook his head, because he knew he wasn't the one who deserved that title.


	6. Candlelight

**Candlelight**

* * *

The warm light trembled in its place, shaking under the smallest breeze or wind and making the shadows on the wall dance at its rhythm. The candle's fire flickered, once and again, and the air at the room changed with it, switching from light comfort to something thicker but not less enjoyable.

The pattern the hands drew on his skin went from erratic to focused, making his breath hitch while his own limbs wandered through a broad back with strong muscles that he could feel moving at the same time the hands changed their place.

His skin felt like burning, the clothes getting more and more uncomfortable until he couldn't stand them anymore. His back arched against his partner's chest before he got rid of both of their shirts. It made them stop for a moment to look at each other. The candle showed different shades on their faces, but there was something that never changed, an immutable feeling always present in the eyes he had grown to know and love so much.

It made it easier to trust. Trust his partner, trust himself and trust the future they will have together. When there was nothing else than them, the silent bedroom and the wavering light, it was hard to think something could ever go wrong.

Life had proven, once and again, through all their years together, that was a wrong way of thinking, since problems, enemies and fights seemed to follow them everywhere. However, there was no room for those thoughts while their lips chased each other. For the night, and as long as the candle was alive, the only thing that mattered was feeling their bodies closer and closer.

When the light died, when morning came and the sun rose, routine and responsibilities would claim them again, as they always did.

But, tonight all of them were far away, out of reach and irrelevant, a worry for when the need of kissing each other had abated a bit. For when the most pressuring matter wasn't the hands running up and down all the exposed skin.

They stopped again, in between kisses, and his lips parted to whisper.

"I love you."


	7. Dawn

**Dawn**

* * *

It was still dark when Sting opened the trap door leading to their rooftop. It was early, very early and he had woken up more from a sixth sense than any other reason. He had been alone in bed, and when minutes passed by and nothing changed, he knew something was up.

"What are you doing here? It's cold." He said, stepping up into the rooftop.

"You can go back inside if you want." The answer was snappy, but he didn't take it personally, not anymore.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." His voice was calm, but Rogue flinched anyway. He dragged his knees closer to his chest but didn't turn around.

"I know, I'm sorry. I woke up and I couldn't sleep so I came here. I didn't want to wake you up."

"You didn't."

Silence stretched in between them, the only sound being the whispering wind. The breeze was cold and it made Sting shudder but Rogue didn't seem to mind it.

The blond sat near his partner, without any worry about the possible risks of sitting on a rooftop. It wouldn't be the first time they sat there, although it used to be in better moods.

Rogue was too silent and it worried Sting, unsure if his boyfriend was hiding something from him or if he was just overthinking things again.

Their shoulders bumped, almost by accident, and the blond noticed his mate was almost freezing.

"You're cold."

And just like that, Rogue sighed and leaned into his side, his head falling on Sting's shoulder.

"I'm worried."

"About?"

"Nothing. Everything. I'm not sure."

"A lot has happened lately." It was true. Since the Games, it seemed like fight after fight had piled up on them.

"Yeah."

Sting rubbed his arm, trying to give him some warmth back.

"I just want things to go well. I want us, all of us to be happy."

Sting bit his lips, both because Rogue was cute and because he would like to assure him everything would be alright, but he understood perfectly what his mate felt.

Sometimes, it felt like things would always get worse, one way or another. But that's where friends and family came in, to make you remember you're not alone.

"Hey, listen," Sting shook, "I can't promise you everything will be always fine. I can't promise there won't be any more problems, that we won't have to fight ever again."

Rogue had finally turned to look at him, his face open but hesitant.

"But I can promise you I will always do my best, both to avoid us any pain or to make us overcome whatever we find in our way."

He felt a bit stupid after he said that, especially when his partner didn't say anything at first. However, just a moment later, Rogue gave him a small smile and leaned to peck his cheek.

"You are perfect." He said when he moved back.

Sting blushed, while the first sun's rays appeared at the horizon.

"Let's go inside," He said and stood up.

Rogue nodded and took the extended hand, following him.


End file.
